


The Superfam as Yandere's

by Chilling-in-the-dark (All_Of_The_Heros)



Series: Yandere DC [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Father abusing Mother, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Soulmates, Suicide, Trigger Warnings, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Yandere Clark Kent, Yandere Conner Kent, Yandere Jon Kent, Yandere Kara Danvers, Yandere Kara Zor-El
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24205942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Of_The_Heros/pseuds/Chilling-in-the-dark
Summary: This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, kidnapping, and physical abuse, more warnings are mentioned in the tags. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.What if the Superfam were Yanderes? If you want to find out, then you're in the right place.This story is a sister work to The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes; you don't have to read it everything in here will still make scence, but if you want to check it out I'd be happy :)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Reader, Jon Kent/Reader, Kara Danvers/Reader, Kara Zor-El/Reader, Kon-El | Conner Kent/Reader
Series: Yandere DC [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736656
Comments: 23
Kudos: 95





	1. Clark Kent

**Author's Note:**

> *Suicide Warning*

Clark always wondered about the handprint on his chest, his parents said it was a birthmark, but Clark always thought that it was more. Growing up, he’d find himself staring at it, wondering what it meant because it just had to mean something, it had to.

Once Clark found out about where he was from, suddenly it made a lot more sense. Jor-El had explained that on Krypton, it would be used to identify one’s life mate or to use earth terminology, a soulmate, the person whom he’d spend the rest of his life with. It’d be the first place that they’d touch him.

Not the first place he’d touch them mind you, Jor-El had made that distinction clear, on Krypton it wouldn’t have mattered much, but on earth, it would make all the difference. Humans didn’t have pre-determined mates; they wouldn’t have the same instant connection. Clark supposed he could live with that, he’d just have to build a relationship with them the human way.

At least until he’d pulled you from a burning building, many people over the years had placed their hands over his mark while flying, but it hadn’t felt like this before, searing pain followed by soothing coolness, and even if Jor-El hadn’t explained it to him, Clark would have known you were his on the spot.

Everything in him vibrated with the need to make you his, to claim you. On Krypton, this wouldn’t have been a problem; his mate would have felt the same, but here on earth, relationships had to be built. Once you were safely back on the ground, it took more strength than Clark thought he possessed to release you, and it took even more strength to keep from frying the EMT, who wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

As you watched superman fly off, you had no idea how much your life was going to change, and how badly you’d wish it didn’t.

Clark had thought he’d have more control then what he did, as it turns out it was harder to fight his Kryptonian instincts than he’d realized. At first, he’d settled for watching you, his periscopic and x-ray vision making this an easy task. Some days when he was feeling extraordinarily brave, he’d sneak into your apartment and just be surrounded by your life.

While Clark was there, he’d decided to use his time to find out whatever he could about you; that way, when the two of you got married, he could have everything on the farm perfect. His mother would have been so happy to meet you, but she’d passed away last year and would never get the chance to.

Clark shook off the sadness that thought brought; he’d found his soulmate he needed everything to be absolutely perfect for your first meeting, but before that, he’d have to get rid of that waste of space you called a husband.

After the man died in what the police would rule a tragic accident, you’d start going to a grief counseling group, one that Clark would take full advantage in joining, the death of his mother was still a fresh wound, after all, this would be a way to kill two birds with one stone.

Clark had just started talking about how his parents met, his father was getting his degree in agriculture, and his mother had been going to law school because of her parent's wishes. Some man in a fancy suit interrupted Clark to say, “You can get a degree in farming.” In the most condescending tone, Clark had ever heard.

Clark was about to say something when you chimed in, “You’re the kind of person who thinks you can plant corn in the same soil every year, and it’ll be perfectly fine, aren’t you? Well, jokes on you, there’s some legitimate science that goes into farming.” The group counselor got everything back on track after that, Clark finished his story about his parents

When the group was over, you’d came up to him and started talking, “I’m sorry about Robert. He can be a real jerk sometimes, but he’s lost someone just like the rest of us. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him honestly,” You said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

Clark remembered the man’s story. It had been just over a year ago when his little sister who’d been attending Central City University had called him really freaked out and said she was coming back to Metropolis, but on her way, she’d died in a tragic car accident. The girl’s body had been so charred that they could only identify her by a necklace her brother had given her.

Clark thought it sounded similar to the story of how Barry brought his wife home, just a much more gruesome version; really all Flash had done was liberate the girl from years of unnecessary struggle. What really was the point in getting her doctorate when the young little thing wasn’t going to be able to use it anyways. Berry had been taking excellent care of her; she was even about to give birth to their first child soon. Clark still thought it was a bit too early for that, Berry’s wife had yet had time to properly adjust to married life, but who was he to judge.

What did it matter anyway when her brother had given Clark the perfect point to insert himself into your life? Over the next year, the two of you got to know each other better, and Clark couldn’t be happier, at least he thought so until one day when you’d kissed him.

The rain had suddenly just started pouring down, and the two of you were hiding under an awning of a local café, giggling like mad, and then you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him down to your level. When you pressed your lips against his, Clark's heart soared. Clark wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you right up against him with strength you didn’t know he possessed. You smiled against his lips, happy for the first time since your husband died. If only you knew where this would end.

Three months later, he pulled you onto a rooftop, removed his glasses, and jumped off the edge. “Clark,” you’d screamed as you started running over to where he ledge, only to have him land in front of you. “You’re,” You gulped.

“Superman,” Clark said, finishing your sentence. You ran like hell, you cared for Clark, and you were grateful to superman, who was well apparently also Clark, but you couldn’t lose anyone else like you had your husband. So, you decided to lose Clark now, while he was still alive, and your heart would only ache because of a breakup and not a funeral.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

You woke up in a strange place to the sound of a rooster crowing, you felt your heart in your throat, and then Clark walked in and started acting like you’d been married for years and refusing to acknowledge when you’d tried talking sense into him.

You’d learned to play along, but he’d never truly broke you, and years later, a few days before Jon was five, you ran as fast and far as you could. Part of you felt guilty for leaving Jon behind, but he was just like his father; you could see it already.

You knew you couldn’t run forever, so somehow, you’d ended up standing in front of the hall of Justice waiting for the league. It was a dumb plan, who would even know if they’d believe you, but they couldn’t approve of Clark kidnaping a woman and forcing her to have a kid.

You’d been relieved when batman brought you back into the members-only part of the hall, they believed you or were at least taking your allegations seriously. You didn’t realize what a mistake it would be to go to Clark’s friends until Bruce stabbed you in the neck with a tranquilizer.

You wanted to cry when you woke up tied to a support beam in the Kent farms storm cellar. You’d been so close to freedom, why did you think that the Justice League didn’t know about you.

Clark came down into the cellar later that night with dinner in tow, and when he asked you why you ran away, you spit in his face, you were done playing the docile little housewife. For years you’d bent to this man’s will even having a child you didn’t want, well no more.

Clark didn’t bring you food for three days after that, and in those days, the only reason Clark came down was to let you use the bucket in the corner he’d been calling your bathroom, still you’d held firm. You’d lost track of time, but after nearly two years had passed in that damn cellar, you spotted it hiding in the corner.

A rusty knife lay buried under buckets of what was probably the lead paint Clark had used to make sure Jon couldn’t see in here. You’d been fraying your ropes against the beam since Clark had brought you breakfast, and once it was a hair away from braking, you waited until you were sure Clark wasn’t coming back for a while.

Once you were sure, Clark wasn’t going to come back; you snapped your rope and ran over to the knife. No matter how heavy the blade felt in your hand, you were under no illusions of being able to take down superman. If you couldn’t have your freedom by running away, you’d take it another way; you thought as you closed your eyes and pressed the blade to your throat.

When Clark came back to the cellar with your dinner, he couldn’t believe what he saw; his soulmate was lifelessly laying on the floor surrounded by her own blood.


	2. Jon Kent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is welcomed

You’d tripped and grabbed on to fourteen-year-old Jon Kent’s upper arm to catch yourself, and when your hand made contact, Jon felt the place you’d touched start to burn. Oh, _oh._ **_Oh shit_** _,_ he thought when he realized exactly what had just happened, how is it he could know you for four years, and yet today was the first time you’d touched him.

After all, you were the daughter of Dick Grayson, younger sister to Mary Grayson. Your father was like another Dad to Damian, so of course, you spent a lot of time with him, and by extension, Jon. Damian was five years older than you, and though his real title was your uncle, he thought of you more as a little sister.

Damian was extremely protective, and Jon knew that even if he couldn’t help it, Damian would never forgive him for being your soulmate. So, he’d kept it quiet, only he didn’t need to, Damian knew and had come to the decision that so long as the Kryptonian didn’t act on the soulmate thing, then everything would be fine. Besides, Damian was busy enough with his own darling, he didn’t have time to worry about something that Jon knew better than to let happen.

To make matters worse, finding out you were his soulmate had brought up memories of Jon’s late mother. When she’d first disappeared, his father had told him that she’d been sick and that his mom was getting help, so if they were lucky, she’d be home with them soon. Jon had believed him, but as it turned out, his father was a liar, his mother wasn’t going to be back with them soon, no, she’d die in some medical mishap.

At least that’s what Clark had told him, it wouldn’t be until much later that Jon found out the truth, but that wasn’t to come not for a few years at least.

Suddenly, Jon had the urge to make you his and keep you that way. Jon hadn’t really had a conversation with his father since his mother died, maybe it was wrong of Jon to blame Clark, but he really didn’t care, his mother was dead, and his father had let it happen.

The possessiveness was because of Kryptonian instinct, at least that’s what the computer in the fortress of solitude had said, Jon would have asked his father, but he found himself avoiding home these days unable to look Clark in the eye without feeling some level of rage.

Jon fought his instincts for as long as he could, but when you were fourteen, and he was sixteen, suddenly he couldn’t anymore. According to his research into mate bonds, this was normal for someone in his situation, he was nearing the age of maturity, and it would start to affect his behavior with his mate. There was no fighting his instincts entirely, so he gave into them in small ways like lending you his jacket when a sudden cold breeze blew by, it helped him control the worst parts of him, the ones that really wanted to keep you by his side forever no matter the cost.

Jon loved the way you looked in his jacket it was like you were basically drowning in the fabric, but more importantly, he loved that it told the world you were his, but then he’d have to remind himself that you weren’t, that you couldn’t be, and that he couldn’t have you because that would be betraying his best friend.

It hadn’t taken Jon long to figure out you liked the slight accent growing up in rural Kansas had gifted him. He found himself playing it up slightly when you were around, he really couldn’t help it, the Kryptonian part of him knew you found it attractive, and it wasn’t going to let a chance to win you over pass him by.

It happened with other things too, like how Jon kept waring that blue flannel you said brought out his eyes, whenever he knew you were going to be around, and how he kept his hair in the cut and style he knew you liked. Sometimes Jon felt like a damn animal nearly shouting, hay look at me I’m healthy and attractive, want to spend the rest of your life with me.

If Damian noticed his friend preening like a peacock for you, he didn’t say anything, then again Damian had been busy with his wife, so he could be forgiven for it, and besides, with Damian busy you’d been spending more one on one time with Jon, and he was living for it.

So much so that Jon kept having to remind himself to slow down, he may have been sixteen, and more than ready to start dating, but you were only fourteen, and Kryptonian instincts be damned he wasn’t going to hurt you by going too fast.

Jon had sworn a vow to himself to keep you safe, no matter the cost, if it meant your safety then Jon would gladly die himself, heck he’d kill the whole planet if it really came down to it. You were everything to him, and in a way, how much his world revolved around you scared him a little. It would be easy to lose himself down that rabbit hole.

When Jon was eighteen he tried to quit you like a drug, avoiding you at all costs, by the end of the week he felt like he was dying, by the end of the month, Jon felt worse than any form of Kryptonite had ever made him. Even the thought of moving hurt, Jon couldn’t see straight if he wanted to, and if he was a guessing person, Jon would say he was running a fever too, judging by the fact that he couldn’t get warm.

Of course, Clark knew what was going on, so long as you were alive, Jon wouldn’t be able to stay away from you, or his body would start fighting him, and if you passed before the two of you had children, Jon would surely wither and die himself. The only reason Clark had survived the death of his wife was because a piece of her still lived on in Jon.

So, wanting to keep that piece of his wife alive Clark did the one thing he knew would save his son, he made up an excuse to leave the planet and called Dick, Clark had told your father about you and Jon as soon as he figured it out himself. Of course, Dick hadn’t been happy about a Kryptonian loving his daughter because the only soulmate bond they had record of was Clarks, and that hadn’t ended well. Though in the end, Dick had decided that he wasn’t going to stand in the way.

Sure, that might have been because while Dick had Mary wrapped around his finger, he didn’t have you because you’d seen with your own eyes how your father treated your mother behind closed doors. Dick wanted you out of the way because you knew far too much, so he didn’t even question when Clark asked you to go to the Kent farm. If you never came back, it would just mean Dick didn’t have to worry about what you knew, or how you could take his wife away from him.

You’d been concerned when Clark called and asked you to look after Jon while he was off-world. Kryptonians were supposed to be immune to earth illnesses, but when you looked at Jon, you started to question that belief.

You pressed your hand to Jon’s forehead to confirm what you already suspected; he was burning up. According to Clark, he’d already tried all of the human fever reducers he could find, and none of them seemed to work. So you’d had to settle for the old school method of bringing down a fever, a cold washcloth on the forehead. After you’d placed it on Jon’s head, he grabbed your hand, pulled it to his cheek and nuzzled into it, you could have sworn you heard him slur the word mine as he did so.

Jon said a lot of things like that for the first couple of days, and you weren’t sure if he meant them or if he was delirious from his fever, but you kind of hoped for the former because over the years you’d fallen in love with him.

Loving Jon made you feel like you were living in some teen soap opera, Damian used to be like a brother to you until you found out that he knew what Dick was doing to your mom, but he did nothing to stop it, and Jon was Damian’s best friend, that was prime drama material. Still, you’d decided that if Jon ever gave you a clear indication that he returned your affections, you’d take him up on it.

Only you couldn’t tell if feverish ramblings counted as a clear sign, on the one hand, he’d rambled for twenty minutes about how pretty your eyes were at one point, but on the other hand that had been when he still had a fever and kept calling water earth juice. So you should probably have discarded anything he said during his entire illness, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Jon had been better for a few days now, and you really should have gone home, but this was a nice break from your life in Gotham. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were only sixteen, you might have never gone home. As it stood, you were still under eighteen, and eventually, you’d have to go home, but today was not that day. Until Clark came back, you were going to enjoy your little domestic heaven with Jon.

“Breakfast smells good,” Jon mumbled as he stumbled down the stairs, obviously still half asleep. You hadn’t expected Jon to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist as you cooked, but he did. It was at that moment that you decided to throw caution to the wind because you just didn’t hold someone like he was holding you if you didn’t have feelings for them.

You turned around in Jon’s arms and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his lips to yours, the kiss was perfect just like everything else about the person in front of you. Jon would have been content to stay like that forever, but unlike him, you needed to breathe, so he didn’t fight you when you pulled away from the kiss.

Jon wasn’t sure what had come over him as you pulled away, but all he could think was _mine, mine, mine, mine,_ to the point he found himself growling, “You’re mine.” As he pulled you right up against him.

“I’m yours,” You confirmed, as you pulled him in for another kiss, If you’d grown up in a healthy family the blatant show of possessiveness might have freaked you out, but you hadn’t, so honestly you found it romantic. Red flags might as well have been green lights to you, and in a way, you were lucky you’d fallen in love with Jon at least he wasn’t like Dick. Jon would never hit you like Dick did your mother.

It was later that night that Jon explained the whole soulmate thing, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly content as he slept because he had you in his arms.

It was a week later when Damian showed up, he’d been worried about both you and Jon, he was concerned about Jon because if you weren’t back, that meant there was a possibility Jon wasn’t improving. Still, Damian was also worried about you because what if Jon had gotten better and wasn’t letting you leave. Damian had seen how well those supposed soulmate bonds, worked out in the end.

Out of all the scenarios Damian expected to find, one of them hadn’t been you, and Jon snuggled up on the couch watching a movie. Damian had never felt so betrayed, his best friend and his niece _together_ , he wanted to puke.

You smiled as you curled up into Jon’s side; part of you hoped that Clark would never come back because you’d been happier than you had been in years. That is until Damian kicked the door in and charged Jon with a sword and a shard of Kryptonite. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of Jon, and in turn, Jon threw himself over you, shielding you from shielding him.

Damian found Jon’s willingness to die for you admirable; it still wouldn’t be enough to win him over, no it’d take a lot more than that, but maybe he was worth a chance. Damian put the Kryptonite away into a special lead-lined pouch on his utility belt after he’d done that Jon felt his strength return.

Jon shoved you behind him and glared at Damian. “If you ever hurt her, I can and will end you, do you understand me Kryptonian,” Damian said as he placed the tip of his sword to Jon’s throat.

“Yeah I do, and I would never hurt her, I love her.”

“Your father said the same thing about his wife, and yet he drove her to suicide.” Damian proclaimed venom dripping from his words.

After learning the truth about his mother's death, Jon sent you off with Damian, he called you every day only to ask you to return a week later, as soon as you set foot on the Kent farm Jon dropped down on one knee and proposed. You gladly said yes, and with your parent's permission, got married.

You never questioned why Clark hadn’t returned from space, and it was a good thing you hadn’t because Jon didn’t feel like explaining that his father had returned, but he’d died not long after.

Had Jon killed him? It was possible because, after all, it would have avenged his mother and secured a beautiful, peaceful life for the two of you. All you knew is that after you were married, Jon mostly retired from superheroing. Only going out when absolutely necessary, because he was content to be a farmer for the rest of his life, so long as you were by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not even sure if Jon came off as Yandere in this tbh, Jon in my head is a much softer Yan then the rest, so overall, my usual amount of skin-crawling creep factor isn’t here, but shrug emoji. Also, Yes, Conner was supposed to be next, but that didn’t end up happening.

**Author's Note:**

> As Always Feedback is Welcome


End file.
